A Regular Christmas Carol
by Sir Weston
Summary: Ten years has passed since Benson fired those four and now he's a bitter old bat. But when all seems lost, can Mordecai, Rigby, Muscle Man, and High Five Ghost turn their former boss's life around? Find out in this "Regular" twist to a classic story!
1. Chapter 1

**A Regular Christmas Carol**

**I am now going to do a Christmas themed Regular Show fan fiction that I will no doubt NOT finish before Christmas. Benson stars as Scrooge with Pops as Bob Cratchet, and that's all that I'm giving away. So enjoy!**

**Chapter 1 Winter in an Old Park**

It was very cold that winter. Ten years had gone by since Benson's bitterness overcame him and he ended up firing most of his best employees. Muscle Man, High Five Ghost, Mordecai, and Rigby were all gone. They had been fired and Benson hadn't heard from them since. When they left Benson grew even more bitter and started becoming obsessed with money. He hired more people, but surprisingly none of them were nearly as good as the four he had fired. Only occasionally had he thought about them. But it was only briefly.

Then one particularly cold winter Skips grew very sick and very weak. Then he died. Skips, who everyone thought would live forever, was gone. Now Benson's only friend and tie to his old life was Pops, who he worked into the ground.

Because it was around Christmas when the four left and Skips died, Benson grew to hate the holiday. Whenever his new employees offered him a Merry Christmas, he'd yell at them to get back to work. Whenever carolers came to the house to sing, he'd chase them away with a rake. He didn't give anyone time off for the big day, he didn't give them bonuses, and he didn't smile.

On that night, ten years later, Benson was a completely different man than he had been. It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a diseased ridden rat with fleas. Benson was in his office going over figures when Pops sheepishly came in.

"Excuse me, Benson," Pops started, "I was hoping to talk to you."

Benson sighed. "Let me guess, you want tomorrow off, right?" he asked.

Pops nodded. "That is indeed correct," he said, "I was hoping to spend the day with my father and my friends."

Benson stood up. "If your father wasn't my boss I would say no way. I'm not giving the others the day off, why should I give you one?"

Pops frowned. "You know Benson, I'm very worried about you," he confessed, "You have been growing distant since Skips passed away. And even before that when you fired Mo-"

"NO!" Benson interrupted with a yell, "Don't even say their names! I don't want to think about those four! They made me this way!"

Pops sighed and turned to leave. "If you say so," he muttered.

As the sun set, Benson came out of his office, locking it up. He walked out of the house and saw his new employees coming up to him. "Hey Benson," one of them said, "We were wondering if we could have tomorrow off."

Benson glared at them. "Why would I give you the day off?" he asked.

"Because it's Christmas!" another boy said without thinking.

Benson started to turn red. Even hearing that word made him mad. "Sure," he said, calmly, "You can have the day off. If you want to be fired, that is. If you don't want to be fired, then you'll all show up here tomorrow at five am sharp!"

As they all gaped at him, Benson walked past them without another word. As he walked through the park, Benson glared at people who were having snowball fights, singing, and generally enjoying the winter time cheers. How pathetic these people were to him.

When he got to the park gate he saw someone strange across the street. There were four hooded people across the street, staring at the park. Two were tall and two were quite short. Even though they had their hoods up, Benson thought they looked kind of familiar. Could it be-?

_No,_ Benson thought, _I'm just imagining things. That can't be them._ He shook his head then started walking down the street towards his apartment. He felt the four's unnerving stares as he walked away from them.

Once he was back at his apartment, Benson felt a lot better. Out of the cold and in the warmth of his apartment, away from weirdoes in hoods. He ran himself a hot bath and relaxed.

Eventually he fell asleep in the bathtub. So he didn't notice the sound of heavy steps walking slowly through his apartment. He didn't feel the sheer cold that was leaking through the door. He didn't hear the doorknob jiggling.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

**Whoa! Cliffhanger! Who is it? Do you know? I know, but do you?**

**Sorry that not much action has happened and its dark mood, but it gets better next chapter, I promise. Like always, after you read this, please review it, so I can tell how I'm doing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Regular Christmas Carol**

**Hey! I'm Updating! Whoa! Trippy! A lot of you have been yelling at me to update this story, so I'm going to.**

**So, think you know who burst in yet? Well…**

**Chapter 2 The Warning of an Old Friend**

A blast of wind rushed through the door, waking Benson instantly. Shivering, he started to get out to shut it, but then he paused. A dark figure was standing at the door. Shimmering and silvery white, this was definitely a ghost. Benson was in absolute awe at the creature that stood before him. But as the ghost stepped forward, Benson gasped. He knew who this ghost was! Clear as day!

It was Skips. Skips, who was dead, and now standing in the door of Benson's bathroom. But how?

"Skips?" Benson said, cautiously, "Is it really you?"

"It is," Skips replied in a heavy sort of way, "But I have passed on to the other side. I am a ghost now."

"Well I can see that," Benson scoffed, "But what are you doing here, Skips? Come to visit your old buddy?" He looked at him hopefully.

"No," Skips answered, shaking his head, "I have come to warn you. Unless you change your ways, you will end up exactly like me."

"I'm going to be a yeti?"

"You're going to be dead, fool!" Skips growled, "Unless you change your arrogant ways, you'll be dying a slow, miserable death at the hands of Death's motorcycle!"

"I don't think so," Benson laughed, "In fact you're probably not even really here! I bet you're just a waking dream I'm having. You died around Christmas, so I bet that's what's doing it."

Frowning, Skips slapped him across the face. Benson fell backwards into the tub. "Does that feel like a dream to you?" he growled.

"No," Benson confessed, rubbing his cheek.

"Now listen to me, you sad sack," Skips said, "You've got twenty four hours to change your ways or there will be no hope for you at all! You'll be doomed to live a life of sorrow and misery! Understand?"

"Yes sir!" Benson exclaimed.

"Good," Skips said, nodding, "You will be visited by er, 'three' ghosts tonight, each bearing a message, and each more treacherous than the last. If you don't want to die, I suggest you listen to them!"

"Yes, Skips!" Benson answered, quivering with fear.

"Good. Now if you excuse me, I have to see a man about an exorcism," Skips told him, "It doesn't get mush uglier than that."

And then he was gone.

It was so sudden, that immediately Benson was sure he had envisioned the whole thing. His face still hurt from where Skips had hit him, though. But maybe he fell on something, or something like that. Yawning, he stood up and dried himself off.

What bologna! Ghosts? Visiting him? What a joke! He was ashamed of himself for believing that for even a moment. Because of that, he decided he was going to make Pops and all the other employees work double shifts with no extra pay on Christmas.

He got into bed and closed the curtains. He lay up for a while, staring up at the ceiling, feeling a little spooked. But then he shook his head and rolled over, closing his eyes, willing sleep to come. What malarky! Ghosts! What stupid person came up with them?

**Done! I'm sorry for another short chapter, but the next one will be much longer, I promise!**

**So, were you surprised about who it was? Tell me who you think the ghosts will be!**


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